


Titanium Lullaby

by cheeky_geek_m0nkey



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheeky_geek_m0nkey/pseuds/cheeky_geek_m0nkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Beca is a fucking baby-whisperer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t get why we’re doing this,” Beca muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Chloe to hear. Turning down the radio, Chloe kept one hand on the wheel as the other reached to pry open Beca’s arms, which had been crossed.

“Becaauuuse,” Chloe sang, tugging at Beca’s arms harder when the girl resisted. The car swerved slightly, but she managed to turn into Professor Mitchell’s cul-de-sac. “The Bellas need some extra cash if we want to get that house, and I’m good with kids.” She parked on the curb outside of a red-brick house, the car beeping with the keys still in the ignition. She’d succeeded in getting Beca’s hand freed, and was wrapping her fingers around the other girl’s. 

“And I’m here because…?” Beca hit her hand against Chloe’s a few times, sighing. Ever since Chloe burst through their dorm room with the “good news” of this babysitting night earlier that week, she’d been irritated at the slightest things. As the week progressed, the nausea in her stomach increased, until she was nothing but a surly ball of bad attitude. Now, the house was within eyesight from every direction she glanced, standing taller than anything Beca’s mom could afford. A minivan sat in the driveway, with the white stick-figure stickers to represent each member of the family. She couldn’t tell if her groan was audible or not. 

“Because she’s  _your_  half-sister,” Chloe reminded Beca, unbuckling her seatbelt but not separating her hand from Beca’s. “And because we’re missing date night for this.” 

“Ah, yes, nothing says romance like dirty diapers and family photos I’m not in,” Beca said, though she squeezed Chloe’s hand harder. Chloe used the squeeze for leverage, pulling Beca closer to her face. “That’s the spirit,” she chirped, placing a kiss on Beca’s nose. “You don’t even have to hold her, Becs. I’ve got this.” 

Beca smirked, then, as if she’d heard an inside joke. “Right,” she said, nodding once. Chloe would have pressed her more on the reaction, but before she could, she heard her English professor’s voice shouting from the front door, and then a very strangled groan from his daughter.

\--

The interactions between Beca and her father were strained, to say the least. Chloe gave her credit, though, as Beca treated the woman she privately called “step-monster” with relative politeness. Having the redhead by her side helped Beca immensely, as the granite countertops felt less cold with Chloe’s hand to hold, and the walls felt less empty with Chloe’s natural ability to converse. Together, they kept a safe distance from the baby, Rose, as a means of maintaining balance between the adults’ instructions and their actual duty. As the parents left, Rose was left in Chloe’s arms, squirming uncomfortably. Biting down any appeals for help, Chloe fumbled with the child, trying to act calm. The final slam of the door pushed Rose to tears, which erupted into wails, which could only be described as a sound meant to drown out siren’s songs. 

Beca watched Chloe’s face turn from discomfort to total panic, the bounce of her hips becoming unsteady and hurried. As the baby still squirmed, the redhead held her with arms outstretched, Lion King style. Which, naturally, only made the baby cry worse. 

“It’s fine,” Chloe said, shouting over the screams, “Go see how many channels they have on the TV. She’ll…ow!” The small baby had gotten a hold of Chloe’s curls and tugged, “She’ll calm down in no time.” 

Beca, who started the night standing awkwardly at the kitchen counter, had migrated to Chloe’s side, sitting on the couch’s edge. She sighed, watching Chloe with a pained and pitying smile on her face, before tapping Chloe on the shoulder. When Chloe turned around, her eyes alight with uncertainty and panic - no matter how hard she tried to quell it. She was shocked to find Beca standing with her arms out, eyes expectant. 

“You…?” Chloe looked down at the baby, whose cries were only getting louder, and back up to Beca with a confused look. Beca rolled her eyes. Her arms were still open, and she was getting impatient. 

“Just trust me,” she said, pushing her hands closer to Rose. Carefully, Chloe moved to put Rose in her arms. 

“Okay, you want to make sure that her head is suppo–” Chloe stopped giving instructions when Rose slipped easily into Beca’s arms. Bundled into the space under Beca’s chin, she stopped crying immediately, letting a heavy silence press down on the house. On instinct, Beca started swaying, easing into the smooth rhythm that Chloe knew flowed through her veins. She pressed her nose down into the small tuft of brown hair on Rose’s head, inhaling. It was like she had taken a whiff of floating gas, the way she seemed to lift off the ground. 

“Chloe came in here thinking she was all that, didn’t she?” Beca said to Rose, squeezing the words in the small space between her mouth and the baby’s head. 

While Chloe spent the earlier moments speaking to Rose in the highest pitched baby-voice she could muster, Beca spoke slowly and clearly - the same way she did with regular-sized humans. It was softer around the edges, though, a voice Chloe only heard Beca use when it was so late it was early, stroking circles on Chloe’s back in a steady pattern. 

She threw Chloe a wink, satisfied at the look of shock on the redhead’s face, and used the steady sway of her hips to bounce into the nursery room. Along the way, she held her hand out for the baby to clasp, and Chloe heard a sniffling Rose giggle at the contact. Without moving, she could see into the doorway, watching Rose stick her hand into Beca’s mouth. The woman munched on the hand briefly before pulling away and sputtering, “You know, kid, cannibal isn’t my thing.”

Though Chloe knew the baby was incapable of understanding the joke, she swore she heard Rose squeal, clapping. As Beca easily threw the baby up in the air and caught it without hesitation, Chloe’s jaw nearly dropped. At the sound of the baby’s bubbling giggle, Beca squealed, and that was the point at which Chloe nearly forgot how to breathe. With Rose positioned like a football in her arms, Beca looked up, a strand of hair hanging over her face. She had a grin plastered on her face. “You coming over here, Chlo, or are you gonna continue standing there like you’ve just heard that Aubrey fucked a Treble?”

Chloe’s gasp snapped her out of the daydream-state she was floating in, and she blinked a few times before moving towards the room. “Beca, language. Please.” 

Beca threw a glance at her, snorting while she bounced the baby up and down. “This kid doesn’t give a fuck. She’s a tiny human without any comprehension of language.”

“Yeah, for now,” Chloe cautioned, leaning against the doorway, “But when that’s her first word…” 

“Then her asshole father will blame me, as per usual,” Beca said, delivering the biting words with a smirk to the baby in her arms. “He’ll get a baby with the mouth of a truck-driver, and a DJ drop-out who sucked so hard she failed at actually dropping out in the first place.” 

Lifting the baby up to her face, Beca pressed a tickling kiss to Rose’s protruding belly. The baby squealed. “We’re just wonderful failures, aren’t we, babe?” Her voice reached the highest level of “coo” that Beca Mitchell’s angsty self could manage, and Chloe was hypnotized. While she should’ve been taking notes for the purpose of mocking Beca later, Chloe couldn’t help but pass the night watching the woman in awe. She would’ve interrupted, jumping between Beca and the baby for her own miniature human time, but she found herself resisting, not wanting to break the spell that was ‘Beca Mitchell with Baby’. She wanted to memorize every change the small bundle made in Beca’s features, from the smoothing of her forehead when Rose burrowed her face into Beca’s chest to the breathless, victorious smile she got when Rose clapped to the beat of the music that her phone was blasting. 

Beca Mitchell was always beautiful (though, whenever Chloe told her this, she would scoff, roll her eyes, and say, “Stop trying to get in my pants all the time, Beale”). It became one of her favorite things to uncover the different brands of beautiful Beca had within her. There was the out-of-her-element Beca, for example, who bit her lip until it was cherry red and had fingers bouncing on the hem on her shirt constantly. Then, there was the in-her- _very_ - _personal_ -element Beca, the Beca that Chloe still couldn’t believe she got to see, who was flushed and tired with ruffled hair and electric eyes. This Beca, though, the Beca that Chloe didn’t ever dream existed, was an entire discovery in and of itself. There was a glow around her, like the beat that was always flooding through her veins finally found it’s pace. It was mesmerizing.   

The sun set quickly, and the house – which was almost completely open, mostly walled in by windows – started to get dark. That wasn’t their indication that night-time was near, though, as Rose had started to ball up her tiny fists and rub at her eyes violently. She yawned periodically, her mouth forming an ‘O’ that was too big for her face before she settled, squinty-eyed, onto Beca’s bosom. Despite the obvious weight that was added to her eyelids, she tried her best to keep them open. In the back of her mind, Chloe noted how many traits the baby shared with her older half-sister. 

Beca moved Rose to her other arm, pressing her cheek to the top of her head. “ _You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say_.” 

The tune slipped out softly, as if Beca had been singing it all night but only now turned the volume up enough for the rest of the house to hear it. “ _You’re talking loud, not saying much._ ” The baby’s hand rested on Beca’s shoulder, and Chloe stopped herself from touching the dimples that were her knuckles. “ _I’m criticized but all your bullets ricocheted. You shoot me down, but I get up_.” 

Her voice was like a blanket, floating into the air and covering over their skin. Though it sent shivers down Chloe’s back, it also succeeded in making her feel warm - like she was bundled up or being clutched close. It sounded like the way an afternoon nap felt, rosey and comfortable and undeniably  _home_. She continued to sing, running light circles over Rose’s back like she’d done to Chloe so many times before. The air had become molasses, as if Beca’s sways determined the speed of the universe. Slowly, Chloe reached out, resting her chin on Beca’s shoulder. For half of a second, Beca’s movements stilled. The world jolted. When she continued, Chloe could breathe again. 

Reaching around Beca, Chloe ran a finger over the peach fuzz at the back of Rose’s head. Her eyes were shut, impossibly long eyelashes curling out at the crease. Beca’s hand moved to support Chloe’s as Rose’s head lolled, unable to hold it’s own weight. The baby’s lips were open, forming the perfect ‘O’. The divot between her nose and her mouth was that of a doll. 

“She sleeps like you,” Chloe whispered, watching the miniature snores puff out of the baby’s mouth. Beca bit her cheek, never once looking away from the baby. They stood there by the windows for a moment in the last few seconds of the sunset, until Chloe backed away. “Bed time?” 

Beca nodded, turning towards the nursery without quickening her pace. She emerged a few minutes later, a washcloth on her shoulder. 

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, perching on the armrest of the couch. For a few seconds, they watched the criminal law show that was playing in the background the entire night. Then, finally, Chloe broke the silence. 

“So, um, what the hell was that?” she said, flipping off the TV. Beca, looking more tired now than before, stood up to clean the toys that were strewn over the floor. 

“What was what?” she said, throwing a few toys into a basket. She kneeled, opening a diaper drawer in the dresser to put the washcloth away. 

“Um, that sexy Mary Poppins shit you just pulled,” Chloe said, her voice raising.

“Language, Chlo,” Beca jokingly chastised, raising an eyebrow and throwing out a smirk. She saw quickly, though, that the other girl wouldn’t be deterred by mocking. Sighing, she stood up. 

“My mom’s a preschool teacher,” she explained, “I picked up babysitting gigs from her students to help pay the bills.” Chloe nodded, fiddling with the tassels on the couch pillows. 

“So then why were you so angry about coming tonight?” 

Beca’s eyes bugged, her eyebrows furrowing obvious irritation. “Um, how ‘bout the fact that you invited yourself into Satan and his she-devil’s lair?” She took a quick breath, throwing herself onto the couch, with her arm over her face. “You didn’t exactly ask me before you started making business propositions with my dad, Chlo.” 

Chloe, who had her head rested on her hand, scooted off the couch and onto the floor. Moving to be face to face with Beca, she put her chin in the edge of the couch and poked the girl. 

“I’m sorry,” she said simply, pouting, “I didn’t really, like, think.” 

It was true, she hadn’t thought, preferring to push aside the horror stories Beca shared about her father in favor of an A in her Comparative World Lit class. Which, yes, was insensitive, but also always understood by Beca, who would hold her hands up and say, “Whatever you have to do to pass” before wincing and throwing out a “Well, not, like  _whatever_  but, yunno”. 

“S’fine,” Beca said, turning to her side to face Chloe.  “It’s probably good that I’m seeing her anyway.” 

Chloe grabbed some of the hair that was pooling around Beca’s face, drawing designs in the strands. She couldn’t seem to break her gaze from Beca’s though, watching over and over in her mind the way the girl looked with a baby in her arms, like Beca needed Rose as much as Rose needed her. After a few minutes of this, Beca shoved Chloe’s face. 

"Stop looking at me like a serial killer. What’s your deal, Beale?”

Chloe pursed her lips to keep her smile from spreading, eventually realizing it was a futile task. 

“You’re good,” she said, the words coming out in an excited breath, “Like crazy good.” 

Beca blushed, pretending not to smile as she turned her face to the ceiling. She shoved Chloe’s face again, muttering, “Whatever. ‘Sexy Mary Poppins?’” The words were thrown back at her with a cheeky grin. 

Chloe sat up on her knees, trailing a hand up Beca’s hip. “I make no apologies for that. That instinct is natural and evolutionary.”

Beca snorted. “You do know that this -” she pointed between the two of them, “Does not make babies, right?” 

Chloe shrugged, her hand moving further up Beca’s hip. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try my best, though.”  


	2. The One With the Petting Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BeChloe prompt: Beca and Chloe are babysitting and go to a petting zoo. Someone gets chased up a tree by a goat. — sent by anonymous

She was good with Rose. Really  _unfairly_ good with Rose. And while Chloe could blame the shared half-sister genes on the comfort level Beca maintained when around the small baby, she knew that were she to put Beca in a room with a complete tiny stranger, Beca would know just what to do to pass the time without one tear leaving either of their eyes. 

Knowing this, Chloe tried to force down her surprise when Beca asked to take Rose out to the petting zoo. Beca, who normally didn’t voluntary take a step out of her bedroom, hated most animals that were associated with hay, and never saw the point in petting. “It’s, like, rubbing an animal? It’s weird,” she said once when they passed a dog that Chloe made them stop for, “It’s not like I run my hands over cute people so why would I do it with animals?” 

“Well, maybe you should start doing it to both,” Chloe had chirped, “You never know what could happen.” 

Chloe knew, though, that just being next to Rose gave Beca a kind of confidence that was different than even when she was being a mixboard with headphones on. She was more opening and willing to do things like squeal and giggle, so this was just another asterisked event brought on by the nine month old presence in her life. 

“The petting zoo,” Chloe repeated when they strapped Rose into the carseat. 

“Yes, Chlo,” Beca sighed, hopping up into her seat behind the steering wheel. She was growing exasperated by the amount of times Chloe was saying those words. “A zoo. Where you pet things.” 

Pursing her lips, Chloe nodded, looking out the window. There was a grin on the corner of her mouth, and Beca pulled it when she was starting the engine. “What is it, Beale?” 

“Nothing,” Chloe said. She held her hands out innocently. “Nothing, I just…Nothing.” 

“Okay,” Beca mocked, pulling out of the driveway. “Talk to me when you stop being weird.” 

“Oh, but then I’d never talk at all,” Chloe said, throwing a comedic hand to her chest. Beca rolled her eyes. 

“Just buckle your seatbelt and shush, Beale. Rose likes to sleep in the car.” 

–

“It smells like shit,” Beca grumbled when she hopped out of the car. Chloe slammed the door, glancing over the hood to give Beca a surprised look. 

“Language, Becs!” 

“I’m just stating facts,” Beca muttered. 

And Chloe couldn’t argue that, because, admittedly, it smelled like shit. 

Which was to be expected, considering they were nearing a closed pen filled with animals who had the inability to flush after they did their business. And swearing in front of Rose was one of Beca’s favorite past-times, seeing as she hoped to instill the child with some sense of rebellion before she could even talk as a “revenge plot” against the little girl’s mother, i. e. Stepmomster Sheila. 

“That’s a goose,” Beca said as she held Rose in front of her. She was pointing to a goat, though, and Chloe laughed when Beca repeated the words slower to make sure the baby understood. 

“You’re going to ruin her by the time she makes it to preschool,” Chloe said, slapping her on the arm. 

“I’m teaching her that labels are questionable,” Beca said, feigning innocence. Chloe hummed a “mmhhmmm” and crossed her arms before heading into the pen full of animals. 

She saw the hesitation peek into Beca’s eyes - a normally permanent tone of purple that tended to disperse when she was alone with Chloe, or Rose - but only for a moment as Rose cooed and she headed straight into the pen. In that exact moment, a chicken ran past her feet, and she hopped up with a squeak that made Chloe giggle. When she caught her gasp, she glared at Chloe. 

“Shut up,” she muttered. 

“’I wanna take Rose to a petting zoo’,” Chloe mimicked, “’It’ll be soooo much fun’.” 

“I just don’t get why there has to be birds,” Beca shifted Rose on her hip, “Ugly fucks.” 

“Beca!” 

“Sorry,” she said, biting her lip, “Unattractive fucks.” She promptly earned another slap to her shoulder, and Rose giggled. “That’s not funny,” Beca said slowly to the little girl, “You have to fix your sense of humor if you want to actually stand out, kid.” 

Beca was slapped again, this time just for (literally) giggles, and Rose clapped. 

“As always, I’m a hit with her,” Chloe chirped, turning to find an animal to pet. 

“Yeah until she’s in your arms,” Beca argued from behind, still not moving from her spot. “Then it’s all cries and screams. From both of you.” 

“Ugh!” Chloe said, spinning around. “ _So_ not true.” She held her hands out for Rose, and Beca shrugged back, keeping Rose away. “Becs, lemme hold her.” 

“No, I think we’re good,” Beca said quickly, holding tighter to the baby. 

“Beca,” Chloe warned, taking a step forward, and Beca conceded, handing Rose over. The minute she did, Rose hiccuped and Chloe turned to poke her in the stomach before heading over to the chickens. When she turned around, though, she immediately heard a worried “No no nononono” squeak out from behind her. Turning to look, she saw Beca quickly backing away from a goat that was bobbing it’s head towards her. “No, shoo! Shoo!” Her speed was increasing with each step behind her, and the goat seemed to enjoy closing in on her all the more, sauntering slowly despite her panicked shouts. “Chlo? Chloe? Help?” 

Chloe held up one hand, shrugging. “Sorry, I got the baby,” she said, “Can’t be much help now.” 

Beca groaned, but it quickly turned into a scream of sorts as the goat seemed to pick up an imperceptible amount of speed and she turned to break into a sprint, hopping to catch the branch of the tree that was in the pen. Sitting easily on the branch (Beca was always a climber, she explained to Chloe when they went to the park and Beca couldn’t resist the urge), she shifted back and forth as the goat, only inches beneath her, started braying. 

“I’m not letting go of that goddamn child,” Beca swore when Chloe made her way to the tree with a supervisor in tow. She slipped from the branch as soon as the goat was out of eyesight, and grabbed Rose quickly. “Kid keeps me sane.” 

“If you call what you are sane,” Chloe said, laughing, “Then I’d be scared to see what you are when you aren’t.” 

“We’re leaving,” Beca said determinedly, holding onto Rose’s hand. 

“A petting zoo,” Chloe chuckled to herself. “Yea, great idea, Mitchell.” 


	3. The One Where Rose Goes to Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just really need more of Beca and Chloe and Beca's half sister. I have expanded upon these needs via text message and in hopes that, amongst all your adoring fans and amazing prompts, my humble NEEEDS (yeah bro I need this) can be fulfilled in a orderly fashion. What i need your adoring fans to know is that they do not know power until they can text anna agonizingly long head cannons and fic ideas that make her go OMG I HAVE TO WRITE THAT. But I don't want to skip in line so this is here now. — sent by scrawniest-calamity

“Okay, nerds,” Beca said, rushing into the gymnasium and re-adjusting the strap that was digging into her shoulder, “Sorry I’m late, I had a slight situation.” 

“Uh, Beca,” Amy said. She was holding her hand up as if posed to ask a question. “Forgive me, but I don’t remember you getting fat for nine months.” 

“Yeah,” CR said, eyes roaming over Beca, “But send my congrats to the wife.” 

“The wife?” Beca said, confused. She shifted Rose to her other hip, bouncing it slightly before Chloe popped out from the bathroom, as if on cue. 

“Her ears must’ve been burning,” Stacie said under her breath, earning a scared and cold glare from Beca that was erased the minute Chloe spotted Rose bouncing on her hip. It was like a domino of smiles, starting with Chloe and spreading to Rose, eventually stretching up to Beca, who was beaming. 

“Rosie!” Chloe squealed. She raced up to Beca, taking Rose’s hand in her fingers. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Beca rolled her eyes. “Dad had a work trip, and Sheila’s doing some community building project that involves baked goods…I dunno. But she’s staying with me for the day, so I thought we’d have a temporary Bella on our hands, hmm?” 

“No offense, Beca,” Amy said slowly, “But how’re you planning on running a practice and supervising a miniature poop bomb of flesh?” 

Rose cooed at Amy’s comment, causing Beca to hold her tighter. She resting her head on Beca’s shoulder, and Beca’s head leaned to rest on hers, her entire body rocking to an easy rhythm. The Bellas saw it then, though they didn’t believe Chloe when she first told them - the way Beca was calmer with Rose in her arms, easier, like gravel had been smoothed into marble and everything was cool where it was supposed to be freezing. 

“I can manage,” Beca said offhandedly, “First step of that is not starting ten minutes late. Line up, girls, we’ve gotta stretch.” 

Sure enough, she did the entire rehearsal without fault, pausing here and there to consider their current set with a finger in Rose’s fist and a peaceful rock to her hips. In the downtime, Rose cuddled into her side, and in the uptime, Rose sat in the carrier strapped to Beca’s chest. 

There wasn’t a moment of practice that wasn’t performed by Beca with a baby in her arms. She had a holder wrapped around her chest, and when she went to touch her toes, Rose giggled at the change in gravity. When she started the vocal warm-ups, Rose looked up at her, eyes wide in amazement at the sounds coming out of her voice. And even when Chloe had her solo, Rose tried to sing with her, pulling out notes here and there that were entirely too high for the set but nonetheless made Beca smile. 

“Kid likes music,” she said simply at the end of the day, sipping from her water bottle. “Dontcha, sis?” 

There was an understanding in Rose’s eyes that seemed to be unique to only Beca, but Chloe tried, reaching out to touch the little girl. “Future Bella, maybe?” 

Beca giggled, but Rose remained silent, watching Chloe with intent. “Still doesn’t like me,” Chloe muttered, and Beca chuckled, pulling Rose closer. 

“Don’t be offended,” she said quickly, “Some Mitchells don’t take as well to Beales as others do.”

“Charming, really,” Chloe grumbled, biting back her smile. Beca bumped her slightly with her body as a show of camaraderie before looking back down at Rose. 

“Where to now, Ro?” she said, putting an emphasis on the curiosity of the question, as if the baby understood what she was saying. “Good point,” she said after a pause of silence, “Next stop: food.” 

“Oh,” Amy said as she walked by, fanning her nose, “Only if you’re willing to make a pit stop at diaper town.” 

“Shit,” Beca said quickly, pulling out the bag she was about to pick up from the piano. 

“Literally,” Stacie added, appreciating the glare she got from Beca. As Beca leaned down on her knees to change Rose, Chloe stayed back and the other girls left. With her bodyweight pressed against the piano, Chloe watched the way Beca leaned down to blow on the baby’s belly, making her giggle in a way that was undeniably infectious. Beca did it a few more times, poking the soft spaces on her stomach with “boops” and “beeps” that followed the set that they just practiced. Her cheeks were rosy, and Chloe thought about how it normally took an embarrassing comment or sweaty party to bring that color out in the other girl. She thought that Beca looked beautiful when she thought no one was looking, enraptured with the sounds and sights of the little girl lying before her. 

“You know,” Beca started as she sat the baby up, “You could’ve really sucked, Rose. But you’re the coolest chick I know.” 

“Ouch,” Chloe said, walking from around the piano, “I would be offended, but I can’t  _not_ agree.” 

“Right?” Beca was beaming with something akin to pride and awe, lifting Rose up as she stood. She ran a finger over the little girl’s nose lightly before pressing her forehead to the baby’s. 

“She’s also the cutest chick I know,” Chloe continued, and Beca took a second to roll her eyes. 

“Eh, it’s all in the genes,” she said simply. She was holding her hand out, motioning for Chloe to slip her backpack on her shoulder. Instead, Chloe took the bag - which was heavier than it looked - and started to carry it. 

“So,” Beca said, “Food?” 

“Depends,” Chloe said. She opened the doors to the gymnasium, “Are you gonna let me tell people she’s ours?” 

“You’re so weird.”


	4. The One with the Sleepover

“Hey, Chlo, I’m gonna need you to open the door.” Chloe had gotten a phone call twenty minutes after Beca normally came home, and considering the brunette almost never used her phone for calling, Chloe was more than a little afraid when she saw the caller ID. 

The request she was given was not expected, suffice to say. 

“What?”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone, complete with Beca swearing a few times, because she returned to her phone to repeat the favor she asked. “The door. Open it, maybe? It’ll make sense when you open it.” 

“Okay,” Chloe said, hopping up out of her bed to race down the steps. She prepared herself for whatever was on the other side of the door - fully expecting Beca to be holding twenty containers of Pringles or hand-cuffed and on the run (or a terrible combination of both) - before opening it and finding Beca on the other side, fumbling with a miniature human in her arms. She looked just like Beca, more as she got older, though her cheeks were a tad rounder and rosier. Her hair had grown since the last time they’d seen her, but then again,  _everything_ had grown. Beca was holding her with one arm with her other was trying to balance the diaper bag. “Beca?”

“Dad had a last minute conference. I don’t….I don’t really know what kind of emergency conferences professors have but…” she sighed, looking at Rosie. The little girl was cooing, lost in the fascinating magic that was Beca’s keys. “We’ve got her for the night. Or a few nights.” 

“A few nights?” Chloe asked as Beca walked in, ducking under the arm that was holding the door open. Once inside, Beca spun, facing Chloe. 

“I know, I know. We have a set tomorrow. It’s fine, she’s….You’ll barely notice she’s here!” 

She did notice, though. 

They all did. 

Once Rosie did her rounds around the group - with the exception of Lilly, who wasn’t allowed to hold the baby after Rosie’s almost first word was “waterboard” - Beca handed her to Chloe to work on her mixes. She had one to finish before work tomorrow, and the redhead was homework free, so it seemed like a good idea. After more than a few babysitting sessions, it wasn’t that out of the question to consider Chloe a safe bet for familiarity. 

Only, no one told Rosie that because the baby screamed her entire way through the afternoon, piercing wails through Beca’s mixes and ruining Stacie’s newest episode of the Kardashians. She pooped twice, somehow, and spit-up on Chloe’s favorite blouse, and every time Beca asked if Chloe needed a break, the redhead shut her lips tight and shook her head determinedly. “No, we’re having fun,” she’d say in a sugary sweet voice. “Aren’t we, Baby Rosie? Aren’t we?” 

So when Amy knocked on her own bedroom door, peeking her head into her and Beca’s room nervously, Beca could just about guess what it was about. 

“I’ll take her,” Beca said before Amy could even ask. The blonde bowed and then saluted. 

“Our hero, forever,” she said as Beca walked out of the room and down the stairs. “Remember to use protection. Ginge might be like this with your kids one day!”

Beca responded with a perky middle finger aimed at Amy, though while she walked down the steps the sound of the cries only got louder. Lilly had a pair of pink, fluffy ear muffs on, and CR was donning ear plugs that made it impossible for Emily to tell her story properly. 

Chloe was in the kitchen, almost on the verge of tears. Positioned on the counter was Rosie in her carseat, face covered in yellow goop. 

“Chlo?” 

The redhead spun around quickly, face crumbling when she spotted Beca. With a sigh, she handed the food to the girl, head down. “Fine,” she said. “Your turn.” 

“Babe, she’s shy,” Beca tried, her hand reached up to Chloe’s face. What was supposed to be a tender touch because a wince, though, when she felt the yellow goop on Chloe’s neck. “Gross.” 

“Sorry,” Chloe said with a small smile, “Now….I can’t stand it. Do your magic.” 

“Please!” Stacie shouted from the desk in the corner of the room. Beca shot a look back at her and then turned towards Rosie, who was fussing so bad her face was beet red. 

“Okay, okay,” Beca cooed, wiping at the corners of the baby’s mouth with the edge of her bib. “Let’s take a deep breath, huh?” 

The baby started to quiet down simply with Beca’s attention turned to her, and when the buckle of the carseat was being loosened, she all but became silent. 

Beca propped Rosie on her hip, rocking her back and forth. “You’re okay,” she said once quietly, “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

Chloe watched her, shaking her head. “Jesus, it’s like a drug.” 

“It’s called an aphrodisiac, Beale,” Stacie joked from the corner of the room. Beca glared at her, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead. 

“She just knows that we’re related,” Beca reasoned, trying her best not to sound cocky as the baby started to fall asleep in her arms. “Or…I’m just magical.” 

“Mmmhmmm,” Chloe said with an eyebrow raised. “That  _must_ be it.” 

The rest of the night was silent, relatively speaking. Of course, there was Chloe’s constant singing, and Jessica and Ashley’s constant giggling, but Rosie wasn’t to be heard throughout the course of the evening. Chloe had spent most of the afternoon taking care of the baby, and while she hated to do it, she decided to give Beca some alone time with her sister. 

So it was around midnight when she snuck back into her room, needing to grab a towel before stepping into the shower. There, she found Beca sprawled on the bed, headfirst in a pile of notes, with Rosie curled to her chest. Her hair was thrown up into a bun, and the pucker of her lips matched Rosie’s perfectly. Together, they slept, almost nose to nose, with Beca’s arm wrapped protectively around her sister. 

Forgetting her shower, Chloe picked up the notes carefully, dropping them onto the floor before sneaking onto the mattress next to Beca and behind the baby. The brunette opened her eyes slowly, meeting Chloe with a grin. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Chloe said, and Beca pursed her lips with a smirk. 

“What time is it?” 

“Bedtime,” Chloe answered with a satisfied hum, reaching out to put a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “The Sandman says so.” 

“Oki doki then,” Beca said with a yawn. She scooted closer to Chloe and sighed. “Sweet dreams.” 

“With you and an adorable baby? I’m beginning to think my dreams couldn’t get any sweeter,” Chloe joked, and Beca let out a tired snort. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, and Chloe hummed contently. 

“You’re adorable.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 


	5. The One with the Baby Holding the Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fic in the "beca the baby whisperer" universe? 10 year old Rose meeting beca's new baby for the first time? — sent by anonymous

“Watch the head!” 

Beca wasn’t the most trusting of people when it came to her daughter. Granted, it had been two days, and she wasn’t even properly out of the hospital yet, so the lack of trust was warranted, given the fact that it took about twenty years of her own life to be able to come close to performing the trust falls Chloe always swore by. 

Besides the fact that the person holding her child was a ten year old who had the same penchant for clumsiness and butter fingers that Beca had inherited.

Chloe was sitting beside Rose, propping the pillow up that was keeping her elbow in just the right place, and when Beca spat out that concern, she glance up with a grin on her face. “She’s doing fine,” Chloe said, “There’s something about the Mitchell genes that make you guys naturals.” 

Beca sat up in the bed, just enough to reach out to run her thumb over the red peach fuzz that was scattered across her daughter’s head. “Here’s hoping.” 

It was strange, really, and Beca found herself surprised for the first time since _she_ met her daughter all hazy-eyed and exhausted. Because her mom held her daughter, and it was sweet. Her father held her daughter, and it was nice. Chloe’s parents _fawned_ over her daughter, and it was funny. 

Rose, though, was strange. 

Beca remembered sitting in the waiting room with her hands pressed against her forehead as her dad walked out three and a half (yes, a half) times to ask Beca if he was “doing this whole thing right”. It took eight hours - Beca missed rehearsals that day - and by the time she got to hold Rose, she was exhausted, but so were her parents, so she slipped to the corner of the room and bopped the little girl until she was nodding off to sleep too. 

There were an entire lifetime of moments between herself and her half sister, from first bottle to first diaper, but not once did she feel like there would be a sense of reciprocation. 

During those nights of babysitting and days of walking to the zoo, Beca never put much thought into the series of events that would be her future with her half sister, focused much more on the panic that was worrying people would think she was the little girl’s mother instead. 

So when she sat on the edge of the hospital bed and watched Rose pet her daughter, all she could feel was a mixture of shock and strangeness. Her baby was holding _her_ _baby_ , just as she held Rose ten years ago. And her wife sat by Rose’s side, watching with adoring eyes and trying her best to snap a good picture, just as she sat by Beca’s side ten years ago and tried to get a picture to blackmail her with. 

She was struck, again, by the odd way time passes without you ever realizing it - the way life happens without you paying any attention. 

“It’s fuzzy,” Rose said, looking up at Chloe with her tongue stuck out between her teeth. Chloe giggled, nodding. Chloe’s hand ran over the baby’s head, down to her cheeks where she poked them slightly and a little bubble of spit came out. 

“Can you believe you were that small once, kiddo?” Beca said, biting her lip. Rose scrunched her nose, shaking her head. 

“That didn’t happen,” she said confidently. 

“Oh, no, I remember,” Chloe said, sitting back once she was confident enough in Rose’s abilities. “You were a peanut.” 

“Was _not_ ,” Rosie said, and the baby cooed its disagreement. “I’m the tallest kid in my grade.” 

“Are _not_ ,” Beca argued, arms crossed pointedly. “I know that lie, Rosie, and it ain’t gonna work on me.” 

“The doctor said I’m gonna grow, though,” said the little girl, and Chloe laughed, ruffling Rose’s hair. 

“You and your sister are the same person, you know.” 

“No we aren’t,” both girls said in unison. Chloe laughed more, accompanied by the gurgle of the baby and a small squeak. 

“What does it do?” Rose asked, “Does it play any games?” 

“Eventually,” Beca said as Chloe’s finger was captured by the baby’s tiny hand. 

“You’re gonna have to teach her, you know,” Chloe said, finally resting her chin on Rose’s neck. The little girl squirmed slightly, but kept her hands on the baby in the same position, frozen. “Like your big sis taught you.” 

“Yeah, cuz now we have to be boring parents,” Beca said, faking a grumble that Rose laughed at. “So you get to be the cool aunt.” 

“Aunt Rosie,” Chloe said, “Super cool, super tall lady.” 

“That’s me,” Rosie said, sitting up at little bit taller. She winced, then, and Beca’s eyes shot to Chloe, who just chuckled. 

“Let’s give the baby back to Becs, now, before she has a heart attack, hmm?” 

“Fine,” the little girl huffed. Carefully, Chloe peeled the baby out of Rose’s arms and put her safely back into Beca’s, who leaned back now with a finger reaching out to poke the baby’s stomach. 

When Chloe returned to Rose on the couch, the little girl was holding up her hand, slightly cupped. “What’s this?” 

“Money,” Rose said, “Beca always got paid for holding me.” 

“Nice try,” Beca muttered from the bed. “Dad didn’t pay me shit, s–”

“Beca, _language_ ,” Chloe said pointedly, eyes flying from the baby to Rose and back again. 

“What? I’ve been swearing around her for ten years, I’m not going to stop just because I’m holding a wrinkly bean.” 

“Beca! That’s our daughter!” 

“Who _looks_ like a wrinkly bean,” Rose said, arms crossed now. Chloe huffed, sitting back on the couch. The baby cooed then, and Chloe sighed again. 

“I have to deal with three of you now, don’t I?” 

Beca smiled, glancing over at Rose, who was grinning too. “Sorry Chlo-worm,” Rosie said, standing up on the cushion and pushing down on Chloe with her arms. 

“Ey, Munchkin, that’s the mother of my child, be careful with the cargo,” Beca said from her place in the bed. Chloe laughed, grabbing Rose by the waist and pulling her into a hug. 

“You can’t hurt the aunt!” Rosie shouted as Chloe started to tickle her, already out of breath. “You can’t hurt the aunt!” 

Yes, time was weird. Shocking, really, just as life was. 

But what Beca found to be the strangest, with Chloe leaving hand in hand with Rosie to go find that “amazeballs” hospital jello as Beca started feeding the baby, was family. 

It had a nasty habit of sneaking up on you, didn’t it?


	6. The Christmas One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today and I was just wondering if you could write another "Beca being a baby whisperer" minific. If not its cool. — sent by anonymous

“I just don’t see what else she’d need,” Beca said, running her hand over the items in the aisle at Target as if by feeling them she’d know better what to buy. “Dad’s spoiled her as a way of, like, making up for all his massive mistakes with me, or whatever.” 

“He didn’t make any mistakes with you,” Chloe said. She nudged Beca lightly with the back of the cart, grinning. “And I’m sure she’d like anything you got her. She _is_ less than a year old.” 

“Us Mitchell ladies have high class tastes, Chlo,” Beca sniffed. Chloe moved forward with a squeak, pinching Beca’s side to emphasize her point. “I can’t just get her _anything_.” 

“Okay, but we’ve been standing in this toy aisle for just under twenty minutes, and we _did_ promise Stacie that we’d pick her up after her gyno appointment which ended five minutes ago so…” 

“You go,” Beca said with a wave of her hand. “Stop back here after you pick her up, and I’ll be waiting out front.” 

Chloe eyed Beca suspiciously, only for the brunette to respond by rolling her eyes. “Come _on_!” she said, tugging the cart out of her way, “I have to get a few things for the girls anyway.” 

Chloe knew for a fact that Beca hated Target. She hated most department stores, really, particularly around Christmastime when they were filled to the brim with people supporting the “capitalistic ventures of a holiday that shouldn’t exist in the first place”. So, as she left Target with an empty cart and an empty passenger seat, she found herself more than a little surprised that she had gotten away with leaving Beca at the store _during the holiday season ALONE_. 

Granted, only a few months ago she’d “known for a fact” how much Beca hated babies, and we all see how true that turned out to be. 

So maybe there were a few surprises still up Beca’s sleeve after the three and a half years she had spent slowly opening up for the Bellas. 

So maybe Chloe thought a couple of these surprises were particularly and _absolutely_ adorable. 

They were set to babysit that Wednesday afternoon - an escape for the stepmonster to pick up a few extra gifts from Santa - and Beca had spent weeks looking up baby gifts on the computer, even travelling to three nearby stores, before she finally managed to find something that satisfied her “high class taste”. When Chloe snuck under the covers, nuzzling Beca’s shoulder to try to get a peak of what she’d gotten, Beca hid the computer screen from her. 

“I was _there_ while you were shopping!” Chloe said. She, for one, loved surprises. But when there was no _benefit_ to keeping something a surprise, then it was….well, _she_ was a bit nosey. 

“But you weren’t there when I bought it!” Beca argued, “Besides, I don’t want you to ruin it for Rose.” 

“ _She’s a baby_ ,” Chloe said, head tucked perfectly into Beca’s neck, “I’m not going to _text_ her.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Beca said, “You’ll see when she does.” 

It made for quite the build-up on Wednesday, and Chloe found herself rushing through the final holiday rehearsal just so they could get to the Mitchell residence and open the goddamned bag that Beca had stuffed underneath her seat in the car. She would’ve been more embarrassed - should’ve been more embarrassed - but considering the effect Beca holding a baby had on her, the effect of holiday!Beca holding a baby should’ve really been illegal. 

“Hey, bud,” Beca said when they made their way into the nursery to find Rose holding onto the bars of the crib, tears dabbed at the corners of her eyes like she’d been crying for an escape. When she saw Beca, who was walking in with her back slightly bent, so it was more of a _prance_ than a walk, her face broke out in an full-bodied smile. “Don’t get mad, I brought the chick,” she said as she picked Rosie up, shaking her slightly above her head before dropping her quickly a few inches back into her arms. Leaning down as if to whisper, she said, “I know what you say about her. But hey, it’s nice eye candy, to say the least.” 

“Beca,” Chloe tutted, walking forward in the room. She reached a hand out for Rose, letting her grab onto a finger. “I like to think _one_ Mitchell girl keeps me around for more than my looks.” 

Beca snorted. “Tough luck, toots,” she said, starting to walk out the room, “She’s a boob man, too, you know.” 

“She’s breast-feeding,” Chloe called out after her, leaving the nursery to find Beca already stationed on the couch, knees up for the baby to rest on them. 

“Right,” Beca said. She let go of the baby’s fingers for a second to gesture to her own chest, whispering “boobs” while she did so. Chloe shook her head, rolling her eyes, before saddling up next to the two girls and looking down at the baby. 

She had grown in the week since they’d seen her last, enough so that her features were just beginning to get defined. Chloe could see in her the touches of Mitchell blood that she shared with the women she loved so much - the dark blue of her eyes that seemed to reflect everything around her, the brown curling around her head, all the way down to the cowlick that framed the left side of her face. Chloe reached out, just like she did for Beca, and tried to pry it down, failing, as per usual. 

The baby cooed under her touch, and Beca grinned. “So,” Chloe started, her voice a sing song. “Is baby ready for Sister Santa?” 

“She could stand to wait,” Beca said, eyes locked on Rose, “But _you_ are going to piss your pants, so go get it.” She handed the car keys over without breaking her gaze. “Under t–”

“The passenger seat, I know,” Chloe quipped, standing. When Beca pulled the baby up, resting her on her shoulder with a raised eyebrow towards Chloe, the redhead had the decency to blush a little. “I’m excited,” she said in a hushed tone, looking towards the door. “Sue me.” 

Intentionally, she took a touch longer in the car than she needed to - there was something about letting Beca and Rosie be together that felt necessary, at least so they could say their hellos. When she snuck back in, Beca was on her back, holding the baby up on her shins in the air and making airplane noises. Chloe snapped a picture from the kitchen before Beca noticed her presence, considering the option of snapchatting a video before deciding instead that she’d much rather enjoy the live performance. 

There was a spirit to Beca - a liveliness - that was unique to these moments. She was excitable when she was with the girls, and spirited enough _of course_ in specific…moments…with Chloe, but this was colorful. Bright. Sunny. 

And as much as Beca made fun of her, Chloe couldn’t help but see the similarities between Rose and her and start thinking about their own kids. Who they would take after, how they would giggle and who would be the first to bring that out of them….

…Whether Beca could get any better at this whole “baby” thing, and if she could, whether it would be fair at all to whatever absence of skill Chloe might have had.

“You gonna stand in the corner all night, or are you gonna give this chick her gift?” Beca said, breaking Chloe out of her daydream with a slightly jump and a quick “oh”. Watching Chloe carefully, Beca chuckled, shaking her head. “Should I be worried that you only give me those bedroom eyes when I’m holding a baby?” 

“They aren’t bedroom eyes,” Chloe said, more to herself than to Beca, judging by the volume of her denial. “You’re good with her.” 

“I _know_ ,” Beca said cockily. “I just didn’t realize I was _that_ good.” She gestured up and down at Chloe’s stare, and the redhead blushed, shaking her head. 

“Give her the gift already, I can’t take it,” Chloe finally said, throwing the bag the few inches between them so Beca could catch it by the strings and still hold onto Rose with one hand. 

“Alright, kiddo,” Beca said, moving so that she was sitting up and cradling Rosie in one hand. “I would let you open it, but we both know how disastrous that would be. Besides the fact that I didn’t, uh, wrap it. Because that would’ve been useless.” 

Chloe cleared her throat, earning a glare from Beca. “Will you not rush us with your impatience, huh?” Beca said, and Chloe giggled despite herself. Crashing down on the couch, she pulled a pillow into her lap. Beca took a deep breath, reaching into the bag. 

“Here’s the deal,” she said, “You don’t have to be good right away. I’m mostly just expecting noises at first. But this is going to be the family business, and if we want to give Dad a heartattack, you’re gonna have to take a liking to this, alright?” 

The baby cooed in response, which, according to Beca, apparently, was enough to solidify a confirmation. “Of course, you can do other things too. If you want. Like paint. Or draw. Or write. Or something. Just….nothing academic based, please. I wanna see how white we can make Dad’s hair.” 

From behind them, Chloe giggled, nudging Beca. “You’re bad.” 

“I’m just….encouraging her to follow her dreams,” Beca argued, reaching deeper into the bag and starting to pull something out. “Ready, Miss?” 

The baby gurgled, but Beca’s hand stalled. She turned around, a grin on her face. “I was talking to you, Sir Impatience.” 

“Shut up and open the gift,” Chloe said, nudging Beca’s shoulder. “ _Please_.” 

“Chloe likes to beg,” Beca said, her voice slipping into baby talk for the first time that night. It was slight, barely noticeable, but when coupled with the way Beca leaned closer to the baby it was clear. “It’s one of her favorite hobbies these days.”

“Beca,” Chloe squealed, this time kicking Beca’s back lightly with her toes, and Beca laughed. 

“ _Exactly_ ,” Beca said knowingly to the baby, only to have another scandalized squeal from Chloe. With that, she pulled the gift out of the bag, having taken it out of the box before coming to babysit. Sitting the baby down on the floor, she placed it in front of her. 

Rose began to bang on the buttons immediately, starting the sound of drums from the toy. 

It was a mixing board - one that differed greatly from the one that Beca used in the studio, obviously, because the buttons were enormous, and there included a few animal noises, but once the metronome started, the baby bopped her head, pressing down on a few keys nonsensically. 

“There you go,” Beca said with a grin, “The package said three and up, but we’re advanced learners.” 

“DJ R Mitch?” Chloe laughed, and Beca shrugged, looking down at the baby with nothing short of pride. “Your dad is going to kill you.” 

“So what,” Beca said, “I’m too old to corrupt her in the normal big sister ways, so this’ll do for now.” 

“Evil,” Chloe giggled. She put her hands on either side of Beca’s shoulders as the baby pressed down on the duck button three times in a row. “Adorable.” 

“You can’t have _both_ ,” Beca said, turning so that she was facing Chloe but still on the ground. Her neck was craned up. “Pick one.”

“Oh no,” Chloe said, “Evil _and_ adorable. With you, there is no or.” 

“Whatever,” Beca huffed, sliding up slightly to kiss Chloe in the space below her right ear. “I’ll take it, I guess. It’s better than Baby Whisperer.” 

“Wh–”

“I saw your texts to Bree earlier,” Beca said, sitting down in Chloe’s lap and leaning them both against the back of the couch. “I resent that title, you know. It doesn’t at all encourage my badass image.” 

“You can’t deny your calling, Becs,” Chloe said with a hum, “It’s what’s in your _soul_.” 

At that, the baby squealed, holding her hands up when she started a new beat, and Beca looked back at her, mouth open in glee. 

“See, baby?” she said towards Rose, “It’s what’s in your _soul_.” 

Her tone was mocking, very clearly imitating Chloe’s earlier tone, and the redhead responded by squeaking and slapping Beca lightly on the shoulder before soothing the spot with a feather light, impossibly short kiss. 

“She’s a natural,” Beca said, almost in awe, and Chloe giggled, pressing her nose into Beca’s shoulder. 

“ _You’re_ a natural.” 

“Shut up.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, so I've got LOADS more fic on tumblr @ flabbergasties.tumblr.com. Hop on over there to read it and chat.


End file.
